


My Boys

by PastPresentFiction



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:27:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22981717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastPresentFiction/pseuds/PastPresentFiction
Summary: Tess wonders just when her boys wormed their way into her heart, but she never contemplates that they could possibly feel the same about her. Chris Evans, Tom Hiddleston, and Sebastian Stan Rated M for language, and possibly more later.
Relationships: Chris Evans (Actor)/Original Female Character(s), Sebastian Stan/Original Female Character(s), Tom Hiddleston/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 43





	1. Chapter 1

Taking a look around my current situation, I felt a little bemused. Who would have thought a girl from West Virginia would end up hanging out with three of the most attractive (in my opinion) Marvel actors? And yet here I was, a year after the first time I met them and we're still going strong.

Sebastian Stan was sitting on the floor leaning against my legs. He was laughing at Chris Evans as he was telling the LONGEST goofy story about one of their long nights filming. And Tom Hiddleston, who might seem like an odd duck in his present company, was lying back in the recliner looking a little too Loki ate the canary for some people.

I sat back, shaking my head at the men I lovingly referred to as "my boys". How did we meet? Funny story.

One day, as I was stomping through an upscale grocery store in Georgia of all places, I was adopted by these three. Why was I stomping? Why was I adopted? Well, here's how it went:

My day had been shit from the get go. First of all, I was only supposed to be in Georgia for two weeks, and the day we met I'd been there for two MONTHS. I had come to help the screenwriter who was writing the adaptation for one of my books hammer out some of the more obscure details that I felt should be kept in the screenplay. The first book I had sold the rights to was part of a series, so I had to make sure that it was ALL going to make fucking sense. And there was the whole part that I was a little territorial about my writings. Did the screenwriter give all the time it took to write the original story? Did he bleed his heart out for months to send it to his literary agent and PRAY that they liked it? No, so sue me if I didn't want it to turn into one of THOSE adaptations. The ones that have the same named characters, but nothing else seems close enough to the book. Not on my watch. Which is why I was in Georgia during the summer. Ugh.

The writing didn't kill me as much as the other things the studio tossed at me. And on this particular day, they had sent the location scout out to drag me to different locals to make sure they would work for the settings of my story. Did I mention that this was Georgia in the summer? And a great deal of my first book takes place outside? And the location scout was far more thorough with the beating the pavement and bush, so to speak.

With that in mind, and yes I know I asked for this by being so mama bear with my book, I was stomping (which is Chris' word for what I was doing in the market) through the store hot, sweaty, and over the whole experience. And I mean the WHOLE experience. Book to movie? Fuck that noise.

My cart was full of snacks, none of which would count as a part of the four major food groups unless you squinted VERY hard, and I had come to a stop in front of the vast selection of overpriced cheeses. Apparently I was glaring at the display, wondering how the Hell I could back out of the whole deal. I was interrupted by a voice.

"You're glaring at the Limburger." He was standing to my right.

I bit my lip and really had to talk myself out of telling him where he could shove the Limburger, when I chose to make a joke. "Sorry, is it a friend of yours?" I couldn't drop the death glare.

The guy gave a deep chuckle. "No, but I was wondering what it did to you to make you want to stab it."

I turned to him and was greeted by his chest. Sighing, even pissed because of my shortness, I tilted my head up. Great, I shook my head, Chris Evans. Must have missed the part about Marvel still filming in the area. "It's cheese, isn't the point to stab it?" I asked, my face still showing my irritation at full force. Damn him and his Captain America, boy next door, sexy ass.

He grinned down at me, not even bothered by my obvious bad mood. "Not maliciously." He shook his head. "Although it IS Limburger-" He wrinkled his nose at the thought of the smell. And that's all it took.

I laughed. He looked so serious in his contemplation of the cheese and my anger at it. Big goofy meatball.

Chris smirked down at me. "There you go. Knew you'd be cute with a smile."

UGH. Mentally counting to ten to curb another irritant on my shitty day list. I've been called cute my entire damn life. Damn my stubby legs. "Is my bitchface back?" I asked, no longer able to differentiate between my mood and my expression.

He checked me over, not lingering long on my face, but taking ample notice of my cleavage. Rolling my eyes, I waited for him to give me the verdict. "No, not back." He confirmed. "Wait, why would you still be pissed off?"

"Cute." I offered. I walked away from the display and went in search of the booze. I heard his groan behind me and then he was beside me again. Short fucking legs. I found the alcohol, and was trying to decide just what type I wanted, obviously it had to be a vodka, gin, or rum. He caught up with no problem and offered a poetic apology for my mood.

"I'm a dick." Chris said, looking at me as I perused the different clear alcohols.

I turned to see him holding his hands as if pleading with me for forgiveness. Another eye roll from me. "Help me pick a clear liquor." His smile returned and he turned to face the wall of bottles I was standing in front of.

"Ketel One is supposed to be smooth, at least that's what I've heard, for vodka." He said, pointing to a bottle I knew well. "Tanqueray London is a great gin. And no one hates Captain Morgan." He looked so proud of himself that another chuckle rose from me.

I grabbed a bottle of each of his selections, thinking that I could try each one until I found the one that would help me feel better about my current life choices. Moving to the soda aisle in case drinking straight was too much. My new large shadow came along. "Must be my lucky day." I muttered darkly.

"And why is that?" He asked, still standing right beside me.

I looked up at him, because personal space wasn't being invade at all. "Well, let's see. First I was trapped with a location scout all day, running around this state that feels like Satan's asshole this time of year. My stay here was only supposed to last two weeks, but here it is two months later and I feel like it might be better to just buy a fucking house." He grimaced. "And somehow, on my worst day ever, I managed to get Chris "Captain freaking America" Evans as my own personal bodyguard."

A flash of pain crossed his face and I felt like a bitch. He was only trying to help a stranger feel less upset. Groaning, I reached out and touched his arm.

"Sorry." I said, feeling like shit. "Not your fault. You were just trying to keep me from murdering ol' Lim back there and I'm being a bitch." He gave me a half smile. "'I'm Tess Alley, by the way."

Chris nodded, clearly knowing my name. "You looked so angry back there and I couldn't help but want to bring you out of it." He bit his lip.

"You did." I assured him, with what I hoped was a kind smile. "My mood is just constant irritation for days on end and the heat today got to me. I may look murderous, but only toward smelly cheese, I promise."

He changed the subject, it was pretty heavy for a market. "Having a party to bring up your spirits?" He gestured to the almost full cart in front of us.

I really laughed at that. "Sure, party of one."

Chris' eyes widened and he shook his head. "No, no, nope, not going to happen." He took the cart and started returning all of my hard wrought work to the appropriate shelves. I fought to keep up with him and didn't enjoy the irony of me following him around like a shadow now.

"Would you give me my cart back?" I asked, indignant that I was rushing after his long stride. Fucker, I thought. "I put a lot of consideration into the contents of that fucking cart."

He snorted. "Really?" He asked, putting up the booze. "A lot of consideration in picking out-" He glanced at the cart. "Chips, dip, candy, booze, soda, and a rapidly dying bag of ice?" I could feel the condensation in his voice. "Honestly, you'll thank me for stopping this trainwreck one day."

I rolled my eyes and practically growled at him. "I'm a grown ass woman, Evans, give me the fucking cart back." I moved to grab it and he practically danced away from me with it.

"Seriously, Tes?" He asked, and I briefly wondered when we got to nickname status. "If you go through with your 'plans' for the evening, you're going to feel much worse tomorrow." Ass, I thought.

I stood glaring at his stubborn ass, and almost missed being joined by a new variable. "Chris, what the hell are you doing to this poor lady?"

Turning I caught a glimpse of Sebastian Stan. Of course, because where there's one irritating superhero, I thought, there must be two. And then Tom freaking Hiddleston turned the corner. I fought the urge to roll my eyes again, just in case my grandmother had been right about my face freezing that way. Dear God, I thought, what did I do to deserve this torture? So lost in my own irritation and frustration, I nearly missed Chris' explanation.

"I was stopping the angry pixie from waking up miserable tomorrow, Seb. For fuck's sake," he said, as I took his momentary distraction to take my cart back.

"Actually, he was making my fucking decisions for me," I snapped, moving away from the three far too attractive men standing in front of me. "And I am taking it back!" I glared and started moving back through the store, trying to put refill it with the things that I had picked before he stepped in and started 'helping'.

I could hear them chattering amongst themselves as I walked back to the booze wall. I would gather my shit together again, and screw the superhero who tries to stop me. I gathered my three choices into the cart as I turned back toward the soda aisle, I could feel the far larger shadow contingent. I held back a sigh. Seriously, God, why me?

Another set of hands took my cart and I felt the fight go out of me. Fine, I thought, I'll find a fucking Wal-Mart. I threw up my hands, but stopped at the soft voice who spoke next. "Now is that really necessary, love?" I looked up, way up this time, since it was Tom who spoke. Probably really is part fucking giant, I thought.

"Is it necessary to what?" I asked, confused. Certain he couldn't read my mind. "To leave and find another, less hero populated store? Yep."

"Now, now." He said, taking a hand off the cart and taking one of mine. "How about this?" He was looking into my face as though I held the answers to the world, and I realized that this must be so distracting to his co stars. This complete attention "Why not gather the supplies you want, and then WE'LL accompany you to this 'party' of yours? Drinking alone is not healthy, correct?"

I found myself nodding. In the back of my head I was wondering why the hell I was agreeing to them booze-blocking me. However, looking up into his impossibly blue eyes, I couldn't not agree. Fuck. Now I'm stuck with three gorgeous men and cannot possibly get complete drunk and stupid.


	2. Chapter 2

So if you’re like me, surrounded by the three of these superhumanly attractive men, wouldn’t you be wondering how it worked out so well? It was like falling off the bed, which I actually did when they followed me “home” that night. They stayed with me, letting me drink away my frustrations and kept me entertained with their shenanigans. 

They danced me around the small apartment I’d rented for my stay. They told me funny stories from their various lives before and during the rise to fame that came with being Marvel stars. They brought me out of my funk and still kept me grounded. Let me blow off steam without giving me enough rope to hang myself, or in my state that night, blow off the movie deal I’d worked so hard to make work.

When I’d had my fill, they tucked me in, and I do mean THEY. Chris toted me to the bedroom, Sebastian pulled down the covers, and Tom brought me water and ibuprofen for the morning. They made sure I was lying on my side. They turned on the bathroom light, just in case I needed it before morning. And then, as if that weren’t enough, they had a slumber party in the living room. 

I’d woken up that morning, more than thankful for the water and painkillers. I glared at the sun daring to peek through the heavy curtains of my bedroom, but at the same time felt appreciative that I hadn’t drunk dialed the studio and called the whole deal off. Unfortunately, I misjudged my placement on the bed, which I shouldn’t have since with my short arms, reaching the bedside table easily should have tipped me off. I rolled, trying to make my way to the edge of the bed, not knowing I was there. I fell with a crash and started laughing. My goto reaction to a clumsy move. 

What I hadn’t expected was the three of them to come rushing in when I landed in a heap of bedclothes and self on the floor. Looking up at the three of them, sleep still evident in their hair and faces, my giggles went on overdrive. 

“What the fuck?” Chris said, coming over to help me up as his two partners in crime hovered by his sides. “Are you ok?” 

I took his offered hands in mine and let him hoist me to my feet. Another chuckle escaped my lips as I took in his hair standing on end. Running my hands through the mess, I noticed the other two watching me. 

“I think she’s still drunk,” Sebastian said, eyes crinkling with a smile. “Who laughs that hard when they fall out of their bed?”

I raised my hand like I was in school. “Me.” I said, smiling at my heroes. “I laugh when I fall down, every single time.” I extracted myself from the tangled blankets around my feet. “I didn’t know you three stayed.”

“Of course we did, love.” Tom answered, smiling. “Couldn’t have you wake up to an empty apartment and deal with a massive hangover alone, could we?”

I chuckled again. “I’m fine.” I shook my head when they all gaped at me. “What?”

“You drank us all under the table.” Chris answered, looking at my small frame up and down. 

Sebastian licked his lips and did his own assessment of my person. “We HAD to stop because we could feel ourselves getting fucked up.”

“And I’m definitely feeling the effects,” Tom concluded, grimacing. 

I kept grinning. “Oops.” They all kept eyeing me. “I’ve only had one hangover my entire life. And that was when I mixed liquor, champagne, and beer throughout the night.” I gave another laugh as they calculated what that mix would do. “I threw up. I had to be put, fully clothed, in a cold shower. And then I still made it to work the next day, although anything over a whisper made me want to die. Learn your limits, boys, and it never happens again.” I winked, and moved toward the bathroom. “Give me a second and I’ll make you all breakfast.”

I closed the bathroom door and gave a breathless chuckle. Poor things, looked at me like I was a unicorn.

And that night, and morning, got us here. Sitting around the house I was renting, once again in Georgia, while the movie based on my book was filming. They were in town for another movie. Mine was being filmed nearby, theirs in the heart of Atlanta. It was kismet that we were all in the same place at the same time. Usually I’d see one, or two of them, during press for a new book or they’d come to visit me in Florida. Since that day a year ago, we’d kept in touch. At least once a day, I’d speak to one of them, and the texts came fast and furious.

“Ugh,” I groaned, as Chris’ hand cupped his own left man boob. I felt all eyes on me. “What?”

“You groaned.” Sebastian said, cupping my right calf. “You alright?” 

I laughed. “I’m fine. Hungry, but fine.” I staggered off the sofa, I’d been sitting so long. “I’m ordering in, what do you guys want?” Another chuckle as I heard three different answers. “Thank God for Grubhub.” I yelled. I grabbed the handful of takeout menus that I knew matched up with the delivery app. I tossed each their favorite and sat down to consider what I felt like.

“You can have some of my Chinese,” Chris offered, looking at the menu with interest. “I’ll even order you a side of sweet and sour chicken.”

“And I’ll make sure that half my pizza is only pepperoni,” Sebastian said, checking the menu in front of him. “Or do you feel like pasta?” 

“Feeling like some chips, love?” Tom called, looking over the menu for his favorite burger joint. “And if you’re nice I’ll let you have a bite of my burger.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m capable of ordering my own food, guys.” And yet, they all knew that I liked a little of each of theirs. I knew, for instance, that Chris wouldn’t just get me a side of chicken, he’d also order at least one of my other favorites to share. And Sebastian would make sure that no onions or other toppings I found gross would touch a piece of the pizza he handed me. And Tom would get his burger well done, even though he preferred it rarer, and he’d also get the toppings on the side. Just so they’d be able to share with me. I stared at the menu in my hand. What did I have a taste for? 

I decided on a turkey and cheese panini and picked up my phone to place our orders. Choosing mine first, I moved to the best Chinese place in town and handed my phone to Chris. He placed his order, and then passed the phone to Tom. After his order was placed, Sebastian got his turn. Before I could reach out my hand for the phone, Sebastian opened the payment part and tapped in his card information. I rolled my eyes, spoiling me again, I see.

“There,” he said, smirking up at me as he handed me back my phone. “Done.” 

I leaned back against the sofa cushions and couldn’t help but laugh quietly. I felt their eyes focus on me, and laughed louder. “Dear Lord.” 

“What’s so funny, Tes?” Chris asked, moving closer and laying down so his head was situated in my lap. My hands automatically found his hair, even without looking at him I knew he was closing his eyes at the feeling of my fingers sliding through the silky strands. 

Sebastian nudged my leg with his shoulder. “Yep, sharing is caring, girl.” He said, as I could picture the tip of his tongue flicking out to lick his lips. 

“If you don’t tell us,” Tom’s lyrical accent floated over me as he spoke from the recliner. “We’ll have to assume the worst, love.” 

I rolled my eyes, as I sat staring up at the ceiling. My fingers were still running through Chris’ hair, and the comfort I felt from Sebastian’s weight against my legs was something that I don’t think I could articulate. Knowing that Tom sat nearby and watching was comforting too. Who knew that one bad day would end up with all this?

“Well, I was actually thinking about the day we met.” I heard them all give a chuckle at the memory. “And how odd it ended up like this.”

I felt Chris shift on my lap so he could cup his hand around my cheek and make me look down at him. “Why is it weird how we’ve ended up?” He asked, his blue eyes soft from the feeling of my fingers still running through his hair. I’m not sure I would ever fully get used to the soft beard he was wearing now, but it made him look older and more wise than the first time we met. 

Sebastian’s hand cupped my ankle, and I looked down at him. “It’s not,” he answered for me. “She just didn’t think we’d stick around after the first night.” He winked when I smiled down at his perceptiveness. 

“Who wouldn’t stick around after a woman like you drank us all under the table, then woke up feeling better than the three of us stuck together?” Tom asked, giving me a breathtaking smile. 

I laughed again, this time with all the warmth that I felt from them. These three were amazing, and I kept waiting for them to introduce me to a new girlfriend, or tell me they’d found the one. Who wouldn’t scoop one of them up? 

Instead, I fielded the anxious phone calls about fans pushing their way to them and touching them without their permission. The fans who couldn’t seem to get that the three of them were flesh and blood people. 

I don’t know how many texts I got from Tom telling me that another person asked him to demand that they “kneel”. Which would lead to a phone call with me telling him he was so much more than Loki, but that because he was a tremendous performer people couldn’t help but be intrigued. 

Or when Sebastian would send me a voicemail of another set of fans finding out where he jogged in NY and would have to find another route. I’d call back and hear the strain in his voice. He wanted the familiarity of his routine and people kept undoing it. His anxiety would be fierce, but I’d talk him down from it, reminding him of all the places he’d shown me during a trip to the city. A new route would mean a new perspective. That couldn’t be all bad news.

And Chris, God poor Chris. He’d call after another meet and greet, or flight and tell me about the fans who would grab him without permission or warning. That they would expect him to smile through and go with it. As though he were a cardboard cutout and not a person with a beating heart. It took longer to get him calmed, the crushing fear that he’d alienate fans mingled with the crippling anxiety of being groped by strangers. Telling him how he was so soft and sweet that people felt relaxed around him to the point of being inappropriate, but tinged with my assurance that they were terrible for assuming his consent. And that I’d beat any ass that did it in my presence. 

The three of them, and me, tangled in calls and texts all trying to keep the others sane. Because I texted my fair share of angst and frustration. To Chris when they wanted to cast a clearly unsuitable actor in a part that I couldn’t let go of. Or Sebastian talking me down when I got so pissed at the location scout for insinuating that I couldn’t possibly understand why it was acceptable to change the entire vision I’d created so he could make his job easier. And Tom, the late night call when I woke up drenched in sweat at the fear that I’d sold out. 

We helped one another through everything. Yet, not one of us seemed to be finding an actual partner for life. Did we date people? Of course, but inevitably the evening would end with a phone call to me, to Chris, to Sebastian, to Tom, or if it were truly horrific, a conference call of epic proportions where we commiserate at the horrible event. What was I going to do when they each found their mate? 

I sighed. We were all locked in our own thoughts, and I looked around as they contemplated. “When will each of you find the girl for you?” I whispered, half wish, half worry.

I felt the vibration of Chris’ chuckle. “Who says we haven’t?” I glanced down into his dark blue eyes. 

Rolling my eyes, I slapped his shoulder. Not this again, I thought. At least a few times a month, one of them would say that I was the girl for him, them. Right, I thought, three of you and one of me. Sweethearts, but full of shit. “Uh huh.” I said, shaking my head. “Sure you have. Get off me, I’m going to grab plates.” I wiggled and he raised his head from my lap so I could move. I felt Sebastian’s hand release my ankle and I tapped Tom on the shoulder as I moved to the kitchen. 

I heard them whispering between themselves while I gathered napkins, plates, and silverware. “Do you guys need more ice?” I called, listening as they stopped talking. “Or do any of you want a beer?”

“We’ll grab the drinks,” Chris offered, moving to the kitchen. “You can set the coffee table.” He winked. 

I smirked and took my burden into the living room. The other two had followed behind Chris and I could hear their whispers restart. “Hey! Could one of you bring me some ice and tea?” 

“Will do.” Sebastian’s voice called, then the whispers again. 

Another woman might be worried or irritated by the whispered conversations that the three of them actively had just outside my presence, but it felt normal to me. Hell, they’d been doing it since day one, hadn’t they? When they started their chattering monkey routine, I’d just grab a notepad or my laptop and jot down any story ideas that popped into my head. Sometimes I’d read a book. Men deserve their privacy as much as women, after all.

The doorbell rang and I heard Sebastian tromp to the front of the house to answer. He’d paid, after all. Chris and Tom carried in the drinks while I’d managed to set out our plates, napkins, and silverware on the wide coffee table in front of the sofa. 

Meals with the three of them were always the same. Whether we sat on the floor, or at the dining room table, each of us took a side. Then the food would be separated, and as I sat, they’d start slipping me the treats they chose for me. In this instance, Chris had gotten me small orders of both sweet and sour chicken and chicken and broccoli, Sebastian placed a perfect slice of pizza on my plate, and Tom handed me half of his fries. Seriously, how did one woman get this damn lucky?

“Anyone want,” I started to offer some of my panini, but they all shook their heads. 

“It’s a little too-” Sebastian began, and Chris finished, “like the shit we have to eat every day.”

I laughed, damn it, they were right. I should start remembering that the weekends spent together were cheat days. At least I remembered to stock up their favorite desserts. “If you’re all good,” I offered, a twinkle in my eye, “then I think the dessert fairy came yesterday.”

They all chuckled. I doted on them as much as they did me. So the fridge had ice cream, pies, and cake. The cookie jar held fresh baked cookies. And the candy drawer had been restocked with their favorite stuff. 

We chatted about everything and nothing. Eating and joking like the family we’d become. I definitely felt like it was just another weekend spent with my boys. And boy was I wrong.


	3. Chapter 3

After dinner, my boys put away the limited leftovers and cleaned up the plates and silverware. I had a theory that they only wanted to grab their desserts and was proven right when each returned with a sugary snack. They each offered me a bite, but I begged off. Watching the three of them savor their desserts, making sounds unfit for public, made me laugh.

All eyes turned to me, serving to make me laugh harder. “Jesus, you three.” I gasped, tears streaming and fighting to regain my composure. “You all sound so indecent.” 

Three sets of eyes widened. They chewed their food in silence, clearly considering what I’d said. “Indecent?” Chris asked, swallowing his mouthful. I nodded. “Hmm.” he thought on it.

“I guess you all approve of the offerings?” I asked, smiling at the three of them fondly. “Good. Although, I’m starting to think you only love me for the cheat meals.” I pouted, knowing they knew I was teasing. I didn’t expect or receive an answer. “What’s the plan for tonight? Movies?”

Chris, first at everything in our foursome, had finished first and answered. “Thought we’d do game night.” He took a pull from his beer.

“Ugh.” I groaned. “I hate board games. Should be called ‘bored’ games.” My eyes rolled up in my head. I heard them chuckle. 

Sebastian was grinning at me when I looked back down. “Come on, Tess? Scared?” 

“Scared?” I snorted. “Of Monopoly?”

Tom’s voice drew my attention away from Sebastian. “We never said what games, love.” He looked pretty damn pleased with himself.

I sighed, this three-way teasing didn’t bode well. “Then what games are you thinking of playing?”

“Truth or Dare Jenga.” Chris answered with a smirk. Fuck. I’m going to be taken down by my own device. 

“Shit.” I groaned again. “I NEVER should have told you about that.”

Chuckles all around. Fucking clowns. “You brought it with you!” Sebastian accused.

“Yeah, and I have a feeling I already regret that decision.” I said, pointing to the bookshelf. “We doing the drinking version?” I asked, wondering if there was enough booze in the house to get through the game with my sanity.

“Nah,” Chris waved the question off. “Be better sober.”

I quirked an eyebrow. “Y’all know these are raunchy dares, right?” I asked, taking the box from Sebastian’s hands and starting to build the tower. I heard their agreement and smirked. “How’s that gonna work, seeing as I’m the only female present?”

“Pretty sure all those blocks are clear about it being ‘the person of the sex you’re most attracted to’, Tess.” Chris answered, so smug it nearly rolled off him in waves. 

I tried to think back to the last time I played it. We’d done the drinking version and there’d been an even number of guys and girls. Was that how it ran? Since Chris sounded so fucking cocksure, he’d probably checked. Damn it.

I glared at the tower I built. I’d created my own version from a plain set, so there were no warnings of whether you’d pick a Truth block or a Dare block. And I’d made them seriously hot questions and dares. Shit, shit, shit.

I couldn’t back down now. Sitting back and watching the three of them get comfy around the coffee table, I realized begging off would make them unbearable. “Chris, your idea, so you go first.” I declared, then it’s clockwise around the table.” Ha, that made me last.

Chris took another drink of his beer and grinned. “OK.” He looked supremely unconcerned as he pulled the block I usually chose first. The very base middle block. Best pick. “Truth. Who’s the most inappropriate person you’ve ever had a sexual fantasy about, real or fictional?” He whistled and shot me a look. “You’re twisted, Tess. Ariel from The Little Mermaid.” Everyone rolled their eyes. “In mermaid form.”

I’d been taking a drink and snorted, choking myself. Coughing and watching the other two laugh at Chris, I gasped, “Fish porn?” My eyes were watering. “Jesus, who knew ole Cap was a fish fucking nightmare?” 

Chris gaped at me in shock. Then burst out laughing. “I’ll get you for that, Tess.” He put his piece on the top of the tower and settled back. 

Tom was next. “Dare.” He said in that uber cultured voice of his. “Put something edible on the neck of the closest person on your right that is the gender you find most attractive.” His smile was almost wolfish and I felt a blush flare up on my skin. “Be right back, love.” 

I tried to nod as nonchalantly as I could. Damn me and my fucked up mind. He returned with canned whipped cream. Shit. I tossed my hair over my shoulder and tilted my head for him. It was cold when he squirted it along my neck and I squealed. 

“Sorry, love.” He whispered, looking into my eyes as he slowly lowered his head. “Let me clean that up.” Fuck.

I felt his nose against my cheek and I swear he inhaled the scent of me before sliding lower, his lips and tongue touching the most erogenous part of me that wasn’t a sexual organ. Fuck, and he planned on making a meal of it. My eyes closed and I gripped the edge of the coffee table in my hands. I prayed I wasn’t making the sounds that I usually would under regular circumstances. A lifetime later, I felt his mouth leave me. 

“There, all clean.” He whispered, his breath fanning across my hot face. 

I blinked and my eyes opened. Clearing my throat, I nodded. “Good.” Shit, why did I sound so breathless? “Sebastian, you’re up.” 

Sebastian slid his piece free. Please be Truth, I begged. “Dare.” Shit. “To the closest person of the gender you find most attractive, whisper in their ear something you’d like to try with them sexually.” He grinned and licked his fucking lips. Crooking his finger at me, I shook my head.

“Nope, you have to come to me.” I said, sounding braver than I felt, plus I’d die before I admitted that I probably couldn’t move after Tom’s ministrations.

I swear he looked like he was stalking prey as he crawled toward me. Tossing my hair behind my back, I felt his lips against my earlobe, hot and damp.

“I want to have you hard. Against every fucking surface in this damn house. Naked and grasping against me as I fuck you into a weeping orgasmic mess. Over and over. Making you scream my fucking name.” His tongue flicked against my lobe and I felt myself squirm. Damn it. Why was I panting? It was just a fucking game. Sebastian went back to his spot. “Your turn, Tess.” Fucker.

I took a deep breath and willed myself to get under control. Trying to look extremely unconcerned. “OK.” I swallowed and pulled a piece. “Dare.” Because of fucking course it was. Did they hide all the other truths? “Sit on the lap of the person on your right who is of the gender you are most attracted to and kiss for 60 seconds without getting turned on.” My lips, throat, and tongue felt like sandpaper. Taking another drink from my glass. I shot a look at Chris. “On my right.” I said as he grinned. Damn him. I moved to sit side saddle on his lap, and he shook his head. 

“Too easy to fake a lack of interest that way, Tessa.” He whispered into my hair. Rolling my eyes I turned to straddle him. 

“Better?” I asked. He nodded and bit his lip. Fuck it, I thought, I’d tease his ass right back. Running my hands up his arms, along his collarbone, up his neck and into his hair, I watched his pupils dilate. Leaning forward I let our lips meet. Tilting my head, I opened my mouth and nipped at his bottom lip, accepting the invitation when he gasped. I flicked my tongue against his and felt his hands grip at my hips as he moaned into my mouth. 

“Time.” Tom announced, and I drew away with a grin. 

“Your turn,” I said, hopping off his lap and settling back into my spot. I wiped my wet bottom lip with my thumb. “Something the matter?” I asked him with a wink. 

“Shit.” He groaned and adjusted himself. “That turned you on.” He accused, pointing at me with his free hand. 

“Prove it.” I dared with a squint. And then it clicked. They’d kept telling me, I just wouldn’t hear them. “What’s all this really about?” I gestured at the entire picture around the coffee table.

“We want you.” Sebastian answered, rolling his steel colored eyes, as though it wasn’t only simple but obvious.

“Kept telling you, darling.” Tom nodded.

Chris was staring me down. “Figured this-” He nodded at my game. “Might make you fucking finally see it.” 

I laughed at the absurdity. “There are THREE of you.” I was having a difficult time not becoming hysterical. “One of me. How the fuck would this even work?” 

Sebastian reached out and took my left hand. “We’re not saying we want you all at once, Tessa.” I felt some tension leave my chest. 

Tom chuckled. “I could do without seeing them naked.” Pointing at Chris and Sebastian. 

“We think,” Chris answered, smiling at me. “We could work it out. One on one, and if at any time, you pick one of us. Or none of us, we’ll go back to what we have now.” Back to besties, after sexing them all? I nearly snorted.

“And if I agree,” I whispered, wondering why I was even entertaining such madness. “Who would-”

They shared a laugh, knowing where I was going with it, and having hammered out their plans beforehand. Fucking hen talks. “Saw you first,” Chris said, still laughing and gripping his left pec. 

I rolled my eyes. “Did you call dibs on me?” I asked, groaning at the nonsense. 

He nodded, clearly feeling no need for chastisement. “We have a four day weekend. Always planned on staying here with you. So starting tonight, if you agree,” I bit my lip waiting. “We can see if this works?” He looked so sincere, and almost pleading, that I nearly giggled. 

“Four days, three of you?” I asked, trying to make sense of the math.

“Last day is for your care, love.” Tom answered, smiling sweet now. “So we can all recuperate.” 

I snorted. Sex for three days or nights, and they’re prepping for after care. Dear fucking God, what have I gotten myself into?

“Tell us this,” Sebastian started, clearly trying to bring some form of reason into the equation. I turned my full attention on him. “Did those dares, did they affect you like they did us?” 

“Yes,” it came out as a sigh, and in it I had my real answer.


	4. Chapter 4

The living room got disturbingly quiet. Sure when they’re teasing the crap out of me about nonsensical bullshit, no one gets awkward. Let me admit that the three of them are sexy as fuck and I’m hot for them, and fucking silence.

I cleared my throat and dared myself to look up at them. They looked smug, fuckers. “Got awfully quiet there, boys.” I broke the silence, trying for brevity, but sounding hoarse and irritatingly unsure instead.

“Just giving you time to come to terms with it, love.” Tom answered with another of his damnable smiles. 

I nodded, reaching for my almost empty glass. Taking one last sip while being careful not to choke on my own tongue, I watched them, watch me. “So,” I tried again, happy that I no longer sounded like a frog, and feigning casual interest. “When would this trial run begin?” 

“Whenever you’re ready.” Chris answered. “If you aren’t ready this weekend, then we can wait.”

Sebastian gave a groan. “It’ll be painful as fuck, but we can hold off for awhile.”

“And if I were alright with this weekend?” I addressed Chris, he had called dibs after all.

His eyes widened. “Then whenever you’re ready, still.” He leaned toward me. “It’s entirely up to you, Tess.”

“Is there a time limit?” I asked, wanting to know the rules they’d clearly discussed without me. “I know you get tonight, but when does your time end and the next begin?” 

Chris’ eyes turned shrewd. “How about-when I leave your room, or when we both do?” 

I studied him. “Both of us have to leave. And I want at least six hours between ‘sessions’. Plus showers or baths.” I countered. 

“Done.” He agreed, and Tom nodded along.

“Wait,” Sebastian offered, obviously finding something I missed. “And clean bedding between each ‘session’ as you called it. Wet spots, blech.” His face scrunched up at the gross thought. 

“Huh,” I answered, studying him. “‘Every fucking surface’, and you’re worried about the fucking wet spot?” 

Chris and Tom watched us. Sebastian shrugged. “You wanna be a ‘weeping orgasmic mess’ in the wet spot, babe?” He raised his eyebrow in challenge.  
I smirked. “If you do it properly, Sebastian, it better be fucking wet.” 

And that did it. The awkwardness broke and we were all laughing. All four of us, hysterically giddy, passing over the tense bridge we’d built with the confessions. And we managed to come out unscathed on the other side. 

“And you wonder why we want you.” Chris chuckled, reaching for me. I let him pull me to him and wrap his arms around me. “You ready?” His breath fanned across my face and I smiled. 

“I think I am.” I curled my arms around him. “Whatcha waiting for, Cap?” 

He growled and tossed me over his shoulder, fireman or caveman style. “Where’s the fucking romance, Christopher?” He slapped my ass and I laughed.

“What’s the first rule, Tess?” He asked, walking away from the living room toward the stairs as Tom and Sebastian’s laughter followed us. 

“Don’t call Chris ‘Cap’.” I answered, as I bounced on his shoulder while he walked up the stairs.

“That’s right.” He replied with a condescending tone. “Not gonna make me punish you already, are you?” 

“You wouldn’t.” I breathed, thinking horrible thoughts about myself for having shared that fucking fanfic with him. 

I felt his shoulder lift under me in a shrug. “Will if I have to.” His voice grew deeper and more thick. “Or if you want me to.”

We’d reached my bedroom, but he didn’t set me down. Instead, Chris opened my door, carried me like a sack of flour over the threshold and kicked the door shut behind us. Damn alpha male. Striding to the bed, he finally set me right side up on my feet. Feeling the blood rush back down, I shook my head of the mild vertigo I felt.

“Damn it,” I groaned. “Gonna need a minute.”

Concern flooded Chris’ face. “Shit, Tess, I’m sorry.” He helped me sit on the edge of the bed and brushed my hair out of my face as he kneeled in front of me. “Can I get you something? How can I fix it?” 

I giggled and met his eyes. “Sucker.” Then I grabbed a handful of his t-shirt and pulled him to me. “Kiss me already.” 

He rolled his eyes and groaned, but he obliged. His lips slid across mine and my hand left his shirt to join its sister in his hair. We moaned at the feeling, not a dare this time, just us. I felt his hands running up my legs, until they reached my hips, then he yanked me off the bed and against him. I squealed into his mouth and felt him chuckle. Sitting back, keeping his lower legs under him, he had me straddling him on the floor. We were locked together, one unending kiss, and our bodies tight together only blocked by our clothing. 

Finally needing more: more air, more skin, MORE, we pulled apart. “Jesus, Tess.” He panted, hands still tight on my hips. “You were holding out on me downstairs.”

My chuckle came out breathless. “It was a DARE, Chris. In it to win it.” I smiled and massaged his scalp with my nails like he loved. 

He shook his head and leaned forward so our noses brushed. “You surprise me every fucking day, Tessa.” His eyelashes were so long and his eyes so blue that my only thought was how fucking beautiful he was.

“How’s that?” I asked, quietly so the bubble we were creating wasn’t broken.

“Everything about you. Murderous looks at stinky cheese. Indignant pixie when your plans are railroaded. Funny as fuck drunk who can let go better than anyone I’ve ever met. One hangover in your entire life and you figured out the equation to NEVER have to go through it again.” He chuckled and continued. “Always available for an anxiety ridden Boston meatball. Figures out everyone’s favorite anything and keeps it on hand, ‘just in case’. Constantly beats everyone at finding the perfect gift. And plays Truth or Dare Jenga like a damn BOSS.” He sighed. “You’re a fucking miracle, Tessa. And you wonder why I haven’t found myself a girl? I have. And no one else can hold a goddamn candle to you.”

Dear God, I thought I may have quit breathing. That didn’t sound like a sex playlist. That sounded like a man in-

“I love you, Tess. And not in the ‘love yous’ that we end our phone calls with. I’m IN love with you.” He sighed again and locked his eyes on mine. “And just like you play Jenga, I’m in it to win it.” 

Shit. What the fuck was I supposed to do with this revelation?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, so before anyone goes further, I have to warn you that this story took a twist. Sometimes that happens to me when I write. I start out with an idea, but the characters choose a different path. Hope you like where it went, because I think I do.

I was gaping at Chris. After all the “three Musketeers” shit downstairs, he was IN LOVE with me? I saw him chuckle, but could only hear static. I was still straddling him, foreheads pressed together, as my mind fought to understand.

“Tessa?” I felt the word, his breath fanning across my lips. Then his hands left my hips and his thumbs ran across my cheeks. “Come on, honey, talk to me.” I could hear him now, the plea obvious in his voice. 

I sighed, closing my eyes. I pulled away and moved to sit on the bed. I reached over and took Chris’ hand and pulled him up to sit with me. He sat, holding my hand and watching me.

“I’m-” I took a deep breath and met his eyes, “confused.” 

He nodded and gave his own sigh. “Tess,” he groaned. “I’d be a selfish dick if I discounted how you feel about Seb and Tom.” His thumb was rubbing soothing circles on my hand. “I would rather have you all to myself, BUT I see how you are with them. The way they make you laugh, and how you are just as likely to call or text one of them as you are to me.” He ran his other hand over his face. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to know you didn’t take me seriously when I kept fucking telling you how I felt? Shit, Tess, the thought of either of them touching you makes me crazy.” 

I was watching him and knew he was being truthful. How did I feel about all of this? About his confession, about what he thought I felt for Tom and Sebastian. Big dumb meatball. 

“Jesus, Chris.” I whispered. “I call and text Sebastian and Tom as much as you, because I know all of your schedules like I know my own. Ever consider that when I pick one of them, it’s because YOU aren’t available? They make me laugh, but who’s always lying on my lap?” I could see him trying to piece it together. “Of course I was affected by what they did downstairs, I’m a fucking human woman who just got licked on two highly senstive spots by two talented men.” I squeezed his hand. “You are such an idiot, Evans.” 

Chris’ eyes widened. “Shit, Tess.” He started to pull me to him, but then stopped. Giving a long annoyed groan. “And tomorrow when it’s Seb’s turn,” he practically growled. He fell back on the bed, laying sideways. “What the hell did I do?” 

I would have chuckled, but it wasn’t funny. I laid down beside him and rolled so I could look at him. “We could go downstairs and confess?” I answered, wondering how the other two would take it. “They’re our friends, Chris. And I REALLY don’t want to have to go through with it if I don’t absolutely have to.” He gave a dark chuckle. “Unless you want me to? Is that a weird kink you have, Evans? For me to have sex with two of your friends?”

“Ugh,” he rolled over and pulled me to him. “NO, that is NOT a fetish of mine, Tess.” He pushed our faces together, but just stared into my eyes. “Now that I KNOW you feel the same way, I’d rather kick them both out and have the entire weekend for the two of us.” Sighing, he cupped my cheek. “You’re right, you’re always right. Annoyingly so. We should go down and tell them.” Groaning he rose to his feet, pulling me along. “Want me to do it?” 

I shook my head. “No, we’ll do it together.” I held his hand and we walked to the door. “If we’re a couple, then isn’t that how it works?” I wasn’t too sure, it’s not like I had much luck with relationships. 

He leaned down and gave me a soft kiss. “That’s what I’ve heard.” He pulled away and we made our way downstairs.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this one is complete now. Unless anyone can tell me if they want something more to it, then it's done. Thanks for reading!

Chris and I walked hand in hand downstairs. I didn’t hear any noises, which was strange, even for Tom and Sebastian. As our feet hit the foyer floor, I glanced into the living room. No one was seated on the sofa or chair or even the floor. The game had been put away, as had the glasses we’d used and the plates from dessert. I looked up at Chris and he shrugged his shoulder. 

I pulled him to the kitchen, the other logical place for them to be sitting. No one was there either. I could hear the hum of the dishwasher and walked over to take a peek. Sure enough they’d started it up. Chris was holding a sheet of paper he’d found on the breakfast bar. 

“They left.” He said, reading what was written. He gave one of his barks of laughter and handed me the note. 

“So you two are FINALLY getting it with way too much of our help. THANK GOD. We’ve never seen two people more blindly in love with one another than you two. Enjoy your four day weekend! We love you, just not the way the two of you love one another, thank goodness. 

Chris-Do not fuck this up! Neither of us could handle another round of Truth or Dare Jenga with you two. She’s great, but she’s like our fucking sister. 

Tess-Don’t let him fuck this up! You’re clearly the more mature of the two of you, and dear God thank goodness for that. Also, we’ll be sanitizing our entire beings after having to delve into the darkness of turning you on for the idiot. Love you, doll, but throw the poor guy a bone would ya? 

Love,   
Seb and Tom”

I laughed at the absurdity. “Like a sister?” I scoffed. “And you all make fun of me for being from West Virginia.” I looked up at Chris. “Christopher Robert Evans, I do think that we’ve been issued a challenge.” I tossed the note back on the bar. “Are you up for it?” 

I squealed as he tossed me back over his shoulder again. “Oh, more than up for it, Tess.” He gave my ass a light smack and I giggled. “Where should I prove it first?” 

Chris took me upstairs again, clearly our first go would be on a bed, rather than another available surface. This time he carefully sat me down in front of him beside my bed. He cupped my face in his hands like I was made of spun glass, and lowered his head to brush my lips with his. He built the slowest pace imaginable. Tempting my mouth first, starting with the lightest touch of his lips, then pressing slightly harder. A light nip to my lower lip, and he got the invitation he wanted. The kiss deepened, our tongues tasting one another. 

Chris tasted like a mix of hops and chocolate. Beer and sugar, and I lapped it up. A quiet moan in the back of my throat and I felt his hands run down my back to the hem of my shirt. His fingers slid underneath the fabric, teasing the hint of skin. I pulled away from our kiss, and, quirking an eyebrow at him, I ran my fingers under the hem of his shirt. Turnabout's fair play. I watched his blue eyes darken as the pupils dilated at the feel of my fingers on his skin. How I’d never noticed his reaction to my touch before was beyond me. 

My fingers moved along his waist to the button on his jeans. Licking my lips, I unsnapped the button and smiled as he took a long breath. “Want me to stop, Chris?” I whispered up to him. He shook his head and I let my fingers unzip his zipper. I dipped my hand into the now open jeans, and ran down the front of his underwear, feeling how excited he was for me. “All of this for me?” I asked, and felt him jerk against the feeling of the heat from my hand pressing against him. I removed my hand and felt him sigh above me. “Let’s get you undressed, shall we?” I asked, moving back to the hem of his shirt. Tugging it up and over his head, I was treated to the view of a lifetime. No wonder women ogled him and were tempted to touch him during meet and greets. Still a dick move, but understandable. I ran my hands along his toned chest, happy that he was allowed to regrow the chest hair. Thank God for clothed Steve Rogers. He hissed as my hands tested his skin. “Love the fact that you’ve regrown this,” I said, tugging lightly on his chest hair. “Even if it does obscure the art a bit.” 

He gave a ragged chuckle. “Art?” He asked, biting his lip as my fingers traced his collarbone and the tattoo there. 

“Uh huh.” I said, leaning forward to flick my tongue against the tattoo I could reach. “Art,” my breath teased the wet skin. “Your ink, your body, all art.” I kissed his chest, and felt his muscles tense beneath my lips. “People worship art, Chris. So let me worship you.” My hands fell back to his jeans and I kissed down his chest to his abdomen, slowly lowering myself and his jeans to the floor. His underwear were still in place, but as I looked up at him from where I was kneeling, I knew that they wouldn’t be for long. He was almost panting and teasing him could only go so far, my fingers hooked the waistband of his last remaining shred of clothing and I pulled them down to join his jeans. “Lift your foot, babe,” I requested, yanking the jeans and underwear off one then the other foot, and tossing them behind me. I looked up and saw how hard he was for me, how badly he wanted me. “You never answered,” I said, sitting up on my knees so I was staring at his need. “Is this all for me?” 

“Jesus, Tess.” He groaned, feeling my hand wrap around the base. “Yes, for you. All of it.” 

I smiled and leaned forward, flicking the tip with my tongue. I felt his hands slide through my hair and I leaned closer taking him into my hot, wet mouth. I felt another moan run through him as I tasted every inch of his want. I hummed, feeling like I had won the lottery. As I bobbed along his length, I could feel him tense up. Now that just wouldn’t do. I pulled away and licked my lips. “I don’t think that’s how we want this time to end, right?” I asked, standing up and running my hand back up his body.   
Chris yanked me to him and crushed my mouth with his. I sighed as he took control, finally, I thought, this was the Chris I was used to. The one that took charge and made plans. The one who clearly knew what he wanted and would rush toward it. I felt his hands yanking my shirt up and pulled away so he could free me from it. Then my bra joined it, and his hands took its place. I moaned, the feeling of his large hands cupping my sensitive skin coupled with his thumbs testing the hard nipples making me wetter. “That’s right, Tess, let me feel how badly you want me.” His hands left my breasts and slid down my stomach to the waist of my shorts. Tugging them down and taking my panties with them, he looked up at me with our roles reversed. “Hmm. Is this,” his finger touched my moist outer lips, “for me?” I nodded and my eyes closed as his finger dipped deeper. “So fuckin’ wet, baby.” I heard him suck the finger when he pulled it out of my dampness. “And so fuckin’ sweet. Better keep this on hand for when I visit, it’s my new favorite dessert.” And then his mouth was on me, pushing my thighs apart, his tongue lapping against me. “You taste amazing, Tess.” His breath against my own wetness and the addition of his own, made me squirm. “You like that, baby? The way I’m tasting you?” His tongue flicked against my clit and I gripped his head. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He chuckled and the vibration made me moan. I pulled his hair, and yanked him away from me. 

“Get up here, Chris.” I demanded. He stood, taking his time to taste my hard nipples on the way up and then our lips met again. Moaning as I tasted myself on his tongue, I fell back, forcing us onto the bed finally. “Enough teasing.” I begged.

“Your wish, Tess.” I felt him move to reach for his jeans and stopped him. 

“It’s covered, Chris.” I trusted him to not need the condom, and I was a grown woman who took care of her own birth control. 

He grinned and positioned himself between my legs. A simple movement and he was inside of me. “Fuck,” he groaned, and I arched up against him. “Jesus, Tess, give me a second.” 

I moaned, and cupped his head in my hands. Pulling him back to my face, I kissed him and rocked against the feeling of him being completely filling me. “Please, Chris, please.” I begged again, forcing him to start moving. 

As he thrust into me, all my thoughts were on him. How he felt inside of me, how his skin felt against me. His hands were gripping my hips and I revelled in the feeling of his strength. I moved with him, tightening every time I felt the rush of his angle, the way I could feel every inch of him. It built again, the tenseness I’d stopped before, and this time I didn’t stop it because I felt it inside me too. We came, me first and then my tightening grip around him pushing him over the edge to join me. He fell forward, his weight fully on top of me and my arms wrapped around him automatically. 

Our breathing slowed, our heartbeats calmed, and I could feel his lips against my cheek. Then on my mouth, as sweet as when he brought me up to the room the second time. We parted the kiss, and I saw the love he confessed burning in his eyes. “I love you.” I said, without hesitation. 

His smile was as beautiful as ever. “I love you.” He turned over and pulled me to lay on his chest. “Sex with you is probably going to kill me.” We both chuckled. “Good God, Tess. That was mind blowing.” He kissed my temple. “What were we holding out for?” 

I laughed, a real full laugh. “You thought I was into your two friends and I thought all of you were just friends.” I shook my head at our stupidity. “They’re right you know?” I asked, looking up at him. “We’re idiots.” 

“Idiots in love.” He agreed, taking my hand and linking our fingers together. “I’m gonna kill the two of them for making me think we should share you.” He smiled. “Then I’ll buy them both something nice for pushing us together.” I giggled.


End file.
